I Want Cake

I need cake.  Must have cake.  A doughnut could suffice as well.

 It’s that kind of a week.  I don’t think I’ve craved a piece of cake in my adult life.  It used to be to the point where I didn’t think I’d ever want a piece of cake again.  After working in an office where every other day there was a reason to have cake, à la Office Space, except there was always enough cake.  Working in a suite with only women, there was always too much. “No just a small, tiny sliver for me!” * You know what I mean. 

But now, I have to settle for cookies.  Slightly stale cookies.  Or biscuits, as they call them here.  So not cake.  They randomly sell cake up at the square where I can catch a taxi into town at this one little shop.  And I’m tempted to pay a taxi driver to go fetch me some cake.  How sad.  I know it wouldn’t be what I crave anyway.  Nothing is exactly the same here.  The Oreos are different.  The Pepsi is different.  The Burger King is different; surprisingly better though.  (Yeah, I eat Burger King here.  And yes, I immediately regret it.)

I’m experiencing one of those Peace Corps roller-coaster lows, a dip so far down that only cake (and possibly ice cream) can pull me out.  

These ladies feel me.

I had a visitor last week, which was great.  It was like a breath of fresh air.  When people come to visit you, it’s a whirlwind of excitement.  It’s getting to be yourself for a whole bunch of days at a time, as opposed to a few times a month when you get together with fellow PCV’s.  It’s amazing!  Freeing!  Wonderful!

Then they leave.  And the darkness comes.  (slightly dramatic?)  I did not anticipate this feeling of loss, loneliness and anxiety.  It’s worse than I had thought, perhaps *because I never considered how I would feel after he left; See: not good.

I’m going to see my family soon in the States, which will surely give me the boost I need to get through the last of my service, except the one little dilemma that causes – to lie or not to lie about it.

I am torn every time someone around here asks me if I’m going up for the break. (“going up” means you are going to America) and I want, need maybe, to lie every time, because I know, no matter who it is, they are going to ask me to ‘carry something nice back for them’.  It could be a co-worker, a friend, a taxi driver, a neighbor, a parent, the shop owner, a friend of a friend, a cousin of your taxi driver, a long lost roommate of the second cousin of one of the parents of one of the children at the school in the town next to yours… you get the idea.  LITERALLY ANYONE will ask you to bring something back for them. 
 
And I am a terrible liar, especially on the spot, so I can never manage to say that I’m not going home for Christmas.  So I tell them the truth, which then leads into this conversation about how I can’t bring them back something because everyone asks me to bring them something (to which they act surprised, which I am surprised they are surprised, I don’t understand that one if you are a random person I barely know asking me now) and I have to explain that if I brought back something for everyone that asked me then it would be ridiculously expensive to carry all that luggage.  Not to mention I’m flying a cheap-o airline that charges to put luggage in the overhead compartment, my luggage must fit under the seat in front of me!!!  Phew!

It’s a draining process that I hate to go through again and again, so should I lie?  Yes, the answer is yes.  But that brings me back to my being a terrible liar situation.  It’s just all around awkward.  

Ok.  Rant complete.

So lately it’s been hard to find the energy (in between all the episodes of depressing TV shows) to talk to my friends; I haven’t had a real adult conversation in a few days.  I’m thinking that’s not super healthy… 

…soooo I’ve been doing my thankfuls everyday to get my positive attitude on!  Every day is the BEST DAY!


Today I am thankful for:
Pats win MNF
Cookies/Biscuits – Strawberry Tea Time (almost as good as cake)
Last day of the school term tomorrow
Pen pal letters for Grade 1 and 2 finished, mailing tomorrow
Lasagna
Great photos
Photoshop
Being healthy
Jamaican children's dancing abilities
Coffee (actual Dunkin Donuts, yum! send from my lovely Sue :))
Wine
Unlimited oranges
Giant grapefruits
The fact that I can still get Pepsi, Burger King and Oreos, even if they  are a little different
New Alicia Keys Album
12-12-12 was yesterday, pretty cool
Peace Corps friends who will totally be able to relate to this :)

 Just dance, gonna be okay. 

*Eat the cake!  Just think, there are sad PCV's out there all over the world that would do anything for that cake!
*Could also be contributed to the fact that I’m REALLY getting into Breaking Bad.  Bad idea?  Meh, misery loves company.
*LYB

Jamerican (Don't hate me for using that term, because I already hate myself)

I mentioned in my last post that after a year of living in another country, I’m finally feeling at home.  I was pondering this on my ride back from the nearest town where I go to shop.  It’s a ½ ride, which here means it’s about 12 miles.  Despite the absurdly fast and reckless driving, the condition of the roads still manage to slow down traffic, and when I say traffic, I mean six to seven cars spotted at one time.  I digress.  I was thinking about how I feel at home in Jamaica now and what that means exactly.  Well, I realized it means that now, this absurdly fast and reckless driving just seems like regular driving to me.  (I never get sweaty or nervous anymore and I can keep my eyes open the entire time!) In other words, nothing is surprising; it just is.

 

To give the non-PCV an idea of what I mean, here are a few things that used to be surprising, but are now just standard everyday life:

• Greeting everyone you see – known or unknown.  If you see someone 100 yards away, out working on their farm, you are rude if you do not look over and give them a wave.  This is now ingrained into my being.  When I walk around, I am constantly looking around making sure I don’t miss someone that I can throw a “mawnin” to.
• On the same note, it would be very strange if a Jamaican man (any age) did not hit on me in some way when I pass, and even more expected, ask me to carry (bring) them with me.  Of course, I always say that my “husband” would not like that, and then it is just expected that they ask me if my husband is a Jamaican, to which I always reply “yes”.  Ladies always gots to be on the defense.  Also, when they ask you to carry them, it means that they not only want to go with you, but that you will pay for their travel.  No, thanks.  Also, the radius of unwanted attention expands exponentially depending on the number of lady PCV’s you are travelling with.  Example – if there are 2 of us, 3 times as many men will seek us out.  If there are 3 of us, 6 times as many men seek us out, and so on and so forth.  You get the extraordinary picture.
•  Travelling – If there are not at least 4 people in the back seat, you do not have a full taxi.  Also, where I live, 2 people in the front passenger seat is pretty standard.  I’ve been in a taxi where there were 2 in the front passenger, 2 in the front driver’s seat (one is the driver, one passenger) and 4 in the back, and then 2 in the trunk (most taxi’s here are wagons, so the trunk is pretty spacious).  Of course, when there are children along for the ride, you sometimes lose count of how many people are in the taxi. (One time I counted 14 total!)
• Car seats in Jamaica = Your lap.  Yeah, I mean you.  If you get handed someone’s baby, just go with it.  It’s not unusual to hold a stranger’s baby for the duration of your ride.  (This actually works out great for me, because I love holding stranger babies, or any baby really) In other words, I’ve seen one car seat here in Jamaica; it belonged to my first host family in which 2 of the children would climb in and out of in during the car ride.  It was more of a play seat them.  And seat belts?  Yeah, right, you want to get laughed out of Jamaica?
• Speaking of children – Other than car seats, it’s a rare sighting when I see a stroller.  People just carry their babies around, and if they can stand, they start walking.  One time I saw a 6 year old pushing his 1 year old brother around in one for fun.  That’s about it.
• No PDA.  I’ve rarely seen a Jamaican express their love for another in any sort of physical way (or verbal for that matter) even to their children.  Example: A teacher and the chairman of the school board are married; it took me about 2 months to figure it out.  Even now, I still have my doubts.
• Jamaican’s love, love, love KFC.
• I hear more Celine Dion and other adult easy listening songs here than I do reggae.  Much, much more.
• Hot Dogs are called Frankfurters, and don’t be surprised if you get them for breakfast.
• Despite that Jamaica is known for its great coffee, most people just drink instant, including yours truly.

Those are all the things I can think of for now, which is a lot considering the reason I made this list is to point out things that I don’t notice.  Hmmmm…..oxymoron?  Anyjah, despite my perhaps sarcastic *ahem* and negative tone, I do love Jamaica and I feel so lucky everyday to be here.  Which brings me to my next segment, Gratitude!

Things I am thankful for today:

Great camp day – we painted!

Fun. – My new favorite band, or as I like to call them, the new Queen

I made real coffee today – Dunkin Donuts Vanilla, yum! (LYB)

Parks & Recreation – Specifically, everything Tom Haverford says and does

Tom Haverford/Aziz Ansari’s Huge Smiley Face

Stickers – students love them, and I love using them as bribes

My sweet friends and family that send me awesome packages

My host mom that cooks delicious meals

My real mum that cooks delicious  meals that I can't wait to eat

Clean sheets

Blaine from Glee

Fan

Football season starts in a month

Weekend at the beach in 3 days

Sweet dance playlist that I made for said beach weekend

America in less than a week!  See ya soon

Where have you been?

I’d like to say something like, I’ve been having so many meaningful and life-changing experiences that I haven’t had any time at all to blog! But really, it’s more along the lines of, I’ve been catching up on True Blood and the newest episodes of Parks & Recreation (not to say that those aren’t life-changing). Don’t get me wrong, in the Peace Corps volunteers do a lot and work hard, but in the two plus years we have, there is also A LOT of downtime. There is only so much integration that a girl can do when there are so many HBO Emmy award-winning series at my fingertips.


So.....here’s a quick(ish) update of what I’ve been doing in the last 6 months, other than watching Season 5 and 6 of Dexter.

The school year ended the first week of July. That week, we had a graduation or “school leaving celebration” for the grade 6 students that are going on to secondary school. It’s a really big deal here, and they go all out. The students wear a cap and gown, they get their portraits taken, they get plaques and presents, and all this transpires over an approximately 5 hour ceremony. Yeah, it was 5 hours. 29 students “graduated”. It was scheduled to start at 10, did not start until about 10:45 and ended around 3:30. I’m pretty sure our principal gave a speech that was just shy of an hour. Not that I am complaining at all, this is just how things go down here in Jamaica.

After our graduation, we still had 3 days of school left, to which the number of students decreased each day by 50%, leaving us with approximately 20 students on the last day of school, out of 168.

That last 2 weeks of school, I decided I wanted to put together a summer camp. I was already planning to help another PVC at her summer camp, but I realized that it would be important to my students to plan something for them to do as well. And at this point in my service, I feel comfortable with planning a camp last minute by myself. This was after I heard that the regular community member, who is in Teachers College, was spending his summer in the States on a work exchange program. (who could blame him?)

So that brings us to now, and I am just finishing up my first week of summer camp with my 17 students who showed up. It’s been really fun, but a bit challenging as my campers range from Grade 2 to Grade 6, which means the reading levels vary immensely. I’ve been trying to encourage the younger, less advanced students to reach out for help from the older students, and vice-versa. I’ve also been teaching them new games and trying to fit in some arts & crafts. Tomorrow, I’ve planned to do some paper mache! Fingers crossed! We did paper mache yesterday, and I would say it was about 75% successful :-) They barely get a chance to be creative in school, there’s no such thing as art class here, which means painting or drawing is a rare activity. I’m doing my best to introduce creativity and getting them to use their imagination. Not the easiest task, but proving to be a lot of fun, for both the students and myself.

In official Peace Corps business, a few weeks ago, Group 82 had our mid-service conference. It was very surreal, as most of us couldn’t believe that a year had gone by since we first arrived in Jamaica. It was a lot of fun to see everyone and it made me proud of my group that we made it this far. (Who am I kidding? It was mostly just great to sleep in an air-conditioned hotel room :P)

Also, at the conference, I attended the IT session on movie-making. It’s inspired me to put together a video about our first year of Peace Corps. I recorded almost our entire group describing their first year of service in one word. I’m (slowly) putting together a video of this, including pictures and music. It’s pretty awesome because it seems that I’ve discovered a new passion. I’ve already killed several hours editing about 2 and a half minutes of video. (oh, bumbaclot, I just realized I’ve blogged about it so now it’s a project that I actually must complete. Watch out 2014!)

In emotional news, I must say that after a year in Jamaica, at the risk of sounding cheesy, I’ve really found my groove. I’m comfortable here, I’m confident in my work, and I dare say, happy. I mean, of course there are a million things that I could complain about (A three letter word, starting with B, rhymes with mugs) and there are still days that are unimaginably hard, but I’m not here because it was going to be easy. And when things do get tough again, I remember that each day is different, and I know the next day (even just the next hour sometimes) will be much better. And I’m here to grow and to be thankful…speaking of which:

Things I am thankful for today:
Children learned a new game yesterday and loved it
Made a delicious ramen noodle stir fry (don't judge until you've tried it)
Cool weather yesterday – much easier when walking up the giant hill on my way to work
Internet access
Wine
Coffee
Talked to two of my besties this week– I get to see the in just a few short weeks!
Avocado Season is back! (or Pear as they call them in JA)
Ginnup season is back too!
Students saying their favorite part of camp so far was the writing assignments, a pleasant surprise
Successful first week of camp
Went to my favorite beach yesterday
Good Music
Endless amount of books
Saturday Funday in Ochi with my newest bestie :)
LYB

New Fear's Resolution

Time for some good old fashion self-loathing.  Today I was called "fat" three times.  (By three different, not-so-skinny themselves, individuals, mind you)

I know it's that time of year anyway, when you say to yourself, I'm going to eat better, exercise and get in shape.  Well, for me, it's not the time of year, but the brutal honsety of my Jamaican community that is shaming me into such activities.  So basically, the fear of being called fat every time I go out for a walk is cause for my New Year's Resolution.  It's time I lay off the fried chicken, rice and peas, and cheese puffs.  Sad face.

For those of you who are not familiar with Jamaican culture, Jamaican's are very honest and up-front people, and this is a standard comment made to a lot of female volunteers, so I shouldn't be that offended, right?  But when I decided to venture out for the first time since I got back, not particularly motivated or excited to be around people (I know, I'm terrible), being called "fat" no matter what the meaning, was still a big kick to my big fat self-esteem.

Adding to my diminishing self-confidence, I cut bangs today.  Did anyone notice those?!?  Nope, they just noticed my expanding muffin top.  (Tip: Do not cut bangs in place of eating right and exercising, it is not a sufficient distraction from your gut, even when you cut them yourself in poor lighting and a dirty mirror, resulting in a too short and too blunt look.)


And thanks to those of you who told me I wasn't getting fat.  You are sweet.  But also liars.


What I am thankful for today:
______________________________________________________________________________________________________


My new computer cord that works!
New bangs (however bad they look)
Jamaicans who are honest despite your feelings
Americans who lie to to save your feelings
Kindle cover - thanks mom!
New kindle books
Coffee
Internet works today
Exercise
Patriots are in the play-offs
New (to me) clothes brought back from US
My health
My friends

Little Things

Last Friday I had to make a trip to the nearest town to see a doctor.  I developed a cough a few weeks ago and it hasn't really subsided, probably due to "too much party" as my host mom referred to it.  I say I had to go because I'm the complete opposite of a hypochondriac; I was just ignoring it and wishing it away, but my host mom was not having any of that.  So before she resorted to thumping me over the head and dragging me to the doctor, I called the PC nurse and reluctantly made an appointment.

It's kind of a funny story because here I am with this cough, not really caring, and my host dad, an older man who is ill and taking a lot of medication and needs daily help from my host mom, was very concerned about my health and actually took me aside one day to have a serious conversation about how I can help my cough.  As he was lying in bed he says to me, "Courtney, come here, you need to listen to me.....I have something to tell you.....you can either do what I say or not, it's up to you...*deep breathe in*...you are sick......you need to turn off your fan and your light...*another deep breathe*....because the fan circulates the heat radiating off the light......and it's making you sick."  What a thoughtful host dad I have, that through all his troubles he is so worried about me.  It was so sweet that I didn't have the heart to tell him I hardly ever turn on my fan. *sigh*

Anyway, making a long story even longer, since I was in the "city" for the day, I decided to take the opportunity to do some shopping and pick up some things that I can't get in my community.  I stopped into a pharmacy because I needed some cough drops and I wanted some new nail polish. (a mildly entertaining story for another time.) 

This pharmacy had a huge upstairs area with a lot of school supplies.  Please forgive me if I'm stating the obvious here, but the schools in Jamaica are in needed of supplies; pencils, sharpeners and rubbers (haha, those are just erasers, sicko!) to be specific, so when I find a place that sells such items, I usually pick up some so I can lend them to the children with the intention that I will get them back. (It's pretty much a crap shoot if you do or not.)  So if you don't, I just go get more.  I enjoy shopping for supplies, so I pleasantly took my time there poking around (very much needed after sitting in the waiting room for 3 hours at the Doc's office).  I picked up a giant glue stick, very handy when making posters and charts for the classrooms, extra pencils, and a fancy sharpener.  I went for the deluxe model sharpener - you can't cheap out or I'm pretty sure you are getting big foot's old blades throw out after a few hundred full-body shaves, not ideal.

Well, I'm back at school now, where the children are constantly asking for a rubber or a sharpener or a pencil to borrow (so typical).  So today I started to carry these items around (minus a pencil, too pointy!) in my pocket at all times because of the continual asking for said items.  It's very convenient because when I get a request, I just whip out my fancy sharpener (that's so sharp it works in a matter of moments!) and get to work on those dullards, or when a child makes a mistake?  Guess who's there rubbing it out with my deliciously-cute purple heart-shaped eraser.  So instead of crowding around the trash bin to sharpen the pencils, or waiting in a jumbled "line" to use a sharpener that is already in use and most-likely doesn't work, or worse yet, grabbing another classmates rubber out of his hands and then getting in a fight about it, the children just come to me and I can generally get the job done much faster. (This doesn't always work as sometimes they just end up crowding around me rather than the bin, but that will often happen weather I have supplies on me or not.)

So after this long, drawn out story - my little thing that makes a big difference?
Always carry a rubber. (and a sharpener)


Thankful for today:
My fancy new sharpener
Light weight sweater, perfect for the "fall" weather here
Meeting tomorrow in B-Town a.k.a. "the city"
Thanksgiving week
I get to see friends this weekend (and hopefully have some wine, num num num)
Fried chicken
Helpful PC nurses who genuinely care
Internet (when I typed this one, I sorta sang it in my head and imagined me waving my arm about, it's all very exciting)
2 blog posts in 1 week, whoa!
Pats Win!
Cute shoes
Coconut bread
Eggs and tomatoes




I love your comments! (wink, wink)

A Tale of Courage

Oh I see you, you rodent-sized-disease-carrying insect.  I saw you in the kitchen a few weeks ago, and I was so scared, I just crept past you and little your friends.  And I saw you last week, creeping in my bathroom corner, and then the other night, you were right next to the door that so conveniently leads into my bedroom.  Now you're a little too close for comfort, so it’s time I take a stand.  I choose not to live in fear anymore; I will rise above and become the hunter.  

I know, it’s not easy; it’s no picnic, not for anyone involved.  I mean, perhaps there is a world in which we can co-exist and live in peace; we could be friends even!  But, mi amigo, this is no poorly-written Jerry O'Connell MTV 90’s movie, because if it were, you all would be wearing top hats and donning canes singing the closing number of “A Chorus Line”, while I stand by applauding in awe.  This is no straight-to-DVD-romantic comedy, where we would plot and scheme together to find my prince charming and land me the perfect high-paying job through hilarious shenanigans involving a life-size, creepy, cock-roach-human sporting a trench coat and fedora, gallivanting about town to sabotage my arch enemy who only wants to wreak havoc upon my life.  Oh no, in this version of the story, there’s only me, you and the bottom of my shoe.  Harsh, I know, but only one of us can be the victor, and I choose me.

Oh, and you think your furry little friend is going to somehow distract me from your ultimate demise? 
 

It happened one night not soon after the discovery of you in my bathroom, that certain little pink-eared fur-ball squished itself into a seemingly impossible flatness so as to fit under my door.  The little brown mouse flew out from the corner to find me, peacefully eating my nutella-on-bread = doughnut dessert. Shocked and a wee bit scared, I jumped up, frozen in place, not knowing what to do.  However, reminding me of the basic rules of nature, big > little, my little Mickey froze in his place as well upon seeing me at my full stature, pulled up a frightened shoulder, spun around in his place and scurried back to the corner only to get momentarily caught there in fear, and then eventually to find the crack under the door from which he came.  It happened within moments, yet my heart was beating at full throttle.  Although, I have to admit, he’s such a cute little guy and under different circumstances, perhaps we, too, could be friends - if I were animated, wearing pink and had a fairy god-mother.  (And it doesn’t count because I only pretend I’m a Disney Princess on occasion.)

Well, Fievel hasn’t been back since, but you, you walnut-sized, slow-antennae-moving, creepy coacky roach, you will be back. And guess what?  I look forward to it.  I can't wait.  Because now, the fear is gone; I’m a soldier, armed with my New Balances and broom, I dare you to come out because you don’t bug* me. 

*Play on words

 ____________________________________________________________________________________

Thankful for today:

Internet connection

Beautiful day

Went for a walk and met some more locals

New nail polish
Doce de Leite cookie wafers

Fried Chicken

Pears/Avocado

Pineapple juice

Borrowed computer cord for the ENTIRE weekend!

Got to catch up with some old friends over the phone (I missed you guys!)
Eggs and tomatoes

Season of Emotions

Last week was a little emotional for me, as you can see from my last post I turned *gasp* 30.  And as fun and exciting as it was, it was also kinda stressful and anxiety-driven.  Interestingly enough though, it didn’t actually feel much like my birthday because I associate my birthday with the end of summer and the beginning of fall, one of my most favorite times of the year.  (I don’t have a favorite season, only favorite times of year, which are when the seasons are changing, any season.)  So when the leaves start to turn orange and yellow and brown (great color scheme choice, mother nature!) and the air starts to get a little crisp, and you have to put away your tank tops and flip flops, and pull out your sweaters and boots, that’s when I know that my birthday is fast approaching. 

Now this year was a different story.  I got none of the usual tell-tale signs from my environment that it’s time for me to welcome on a new year.  I’m in Jamaica, which means when it gets to be slightly cooler at night, it’s now fall!  Only slightly, so when I don't have weather.com or the weather channel or boring people with nothing better to talk about to constantly remind me what the temperature is or will be, how am I supposed to decipher!  Even if I did have any of those resources around here, everything here is in the bloody metric system, so clearly I have no idea what it means to be whatever-whatever degrees Celsius. (Adapt you say? No, no, how preposterous!  I don't think so.)  So pretty much my birthday this year managed to sneak up on me even more sneakier than it usually does.

Regardless, I did have a wonderful birthday.  My principal and teachers had a little party for me at work.  They got me cake and ice cream and a big gift basket with tons of goodies.  I felt very special and appreciated.  Before that, I had only kinda suspected that I was lucky to be placed here, now I know how lucky I am to be here :)  And I got a lot of birthday wishes from old and new friends - thank you all very much!

Anyway, here is something more relevant and informative, if you are interested.  Today was culture day at school.  It's National Heroes week here in Jamaica and most of the schools have some sort of celebration.  At my school the teachers cooked all day yesterday and I got the privilege to help.  I've had a lot of Jamaican dishes, thanks to my many host families and loving mothers who would cook for me, so I've been able to eat and help prepare some of the traditional Jamaican dishes.  But yesterday was my first time seeing and learning how to prepare Blue Draws.  Blue Draws is something like cornmeal, sugar, nutmeg and other ingredients that I can't remember, mixed together to form the batter, that batter is then dolloped inside a banana leaf and tied up with string made from the bark from the banana tree.  Then you boil that nice little package for about 1 hour or so, and then open up the leaf and eat the now solid cornmeal dumpling thingie.  It was a lot of fun to make these as we had about 5-6 people involved in the process of wrapping and tying and boiling.  And Jamaicans are very fun and animated people, so a kitchen full of Jamaican women was a lot of fun, loud and crazy at times, but a lot of fun.  Anyway, here is the finished product.  I was very proud of myself for participating...

Blue Draws or as one of the teachers jokingly likes to call them, Blue Panties

There was also a concert put on by the students.  Each grade got up and did something cultural, like a poem, dance or song.  It was very cute.  Some of the boys (like 8-year-olds who are all incredibly good dancers; America, take note, start them early!) even got up and had a dance contest to see who could do the best Michael Jackson impersonation...to a Justin Beiber song.  Yeah, they LOVE The Beibs here.  The crowd went wild when "Baby, Baby, Baby" came on.  I have a video to prove this too, but since it will take roughly a year to upload, that will have to wait for another high speed time.

Some a da pickni dem inna dey Jamaican colors posin's fi di camera...this is my Patwa coming out.

So, anyway it's late in the day, and I just took a little break from writing this post (for lack of inspiration and an excess of tired) and started to get a bit carried away with reading some of my old posts…which have you seen them?  I’m pretty funny.  Just thought you should know.  I have to think I’m funny, even if no one else does.  It’s like how you have to love yourself before anyone else does.  So, I LOVE ME!  (Oh shut up, you know you totally stalk yourself on facebook)

Thank you for today:

• My fabulous sense of humor
• Football Season
• Patriots
• Fun culture day at school
• Cooking with the teachers
• Formatting – for some reason I really like to format documents and I get to do this at work, yay!  (celebrate the little things that make you happy)
• Music
• Books
• Lollipops
• Nutella
• DVDs
• Mini DVD player
• Parties
• Coca-cola
• My phone that works at my site
• Not taking super long naps after work